


Waffle House

by notwest



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Child Abuse, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Dave Strider, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 18:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12305325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notwest/pseuds/notwest
Summary: Dave Strider is almost 18 years old. His hobbies include avoiding Bro and watching his friend's lives pass him by.In the worst moments of his life, Dave finds comfort in a run down restaurant, the family he never knew he had, and one particularly cranky waiter.





	1. Dave

Dave was lying face up on the rooftop of his apartment building, unable to move just yet, courtesy of a particularly brutal beat down by Bro. God damn it everything hurt so much. He moved his arms up to his face shakily, checking to see if his shades were still intact. They were. Unsurprisingly, nothing was broken. Bro was pretty good about hurting him only just enough to avoid hospitalization. This could also be phrased as, Bro was pretty good at keeping other people from finding out that he used Dave as a regular fucking punching bag. He grimaced. As far as he could tell the worst injury he had was likely a sprained wrist. Not that his entire body wasn’t throbbing in pain though. Fuck.

Once a month, Dave would ascend to the roof to have his ass handed to him on a silver platter by Bro. This was all under the guise of “physical training”, though for fucking what, Dave could never be sure. The strifes had been going on for as long as Dave could remember. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bro had been throwing him around while Dave was still in diapers. That’s just the kind of shit he would do, the sadistic fuck.

There were a few times when Dave was younger that he flat out refused to strife. He would come home to see the usual note affixed to his door (“Bro. Roof. Now.”) and his heart would constrict, clenched in the familiar, cold fist of dread. But instead of going up to the roof, he would close his bedroom door behind him and not come out for a week, living off of stale bags of doritos and bottles of apple juice he had stashed away in his closet.

Of course his evasive maneuvers would end up backfiring, because as punishment for not showing up, the beat down Dave got the next time they did strife was always twice as bad. And to make things quadruply worse, Bro would bring the goddamned puppet. Lil’ Cal was the unequivocal source of every nightmare Dave had ever had; it was the reason for the countless nights he awoke in a cold sweat with high pitched, manic laughter echoing in his ears. Bottom line, the doll was fucking creepy and Dave would do anything to avoid it. Including agreeing to get a smack down on the regular, as long as it was sans demonic puppet minions of any kind.

As Dave got older, Lil Cal didn’t have quite the same effect on him as when he was 13. Even so, Dave preferred to keep his distance. And besides, being almost 18 years old and hiding away his room would be extremely uncool. As the years passed for Dave, there was also a definite transition between simply being hit by Bro to fighting him. Still, Dave almost always took a defensive role, blocking the hits he could, taking the rest, and absconding as soon as he got the chance.

When he did chance the offensive now and then, almost all of his attacks were easily blocked or avoided by Bro, the flash stepping asshole. On the rare occasion one of Dave's strikes actually landed, he couldn’t lie about how it felt to see Bro’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise behind those dumb as fuck pointy anime shades, to see that insufferable smirk turn into a grimace of pain - it felt fucking _good_. On the flip side, Bro’s retaliation in those moments was anything but good. Time after time, Dave was always bested and left alone to soak in his own misery, blood, sweat and tears, lying prone in the relentless Houston heat.

The unbelievably shitty greeting written in shit icing on top off the uncontested shittiest cake of all time was this: Dave knew, even as he got his ass unceremoniously whooped, that Bro was still holding back. And That. Was. Terrifying. That was the real reason Dave stayed all these years. The idea of doing something dumb like telling anyone else, calling the police, or even just running away just to end up facing the full brunt of Bro’s unadulterated rage and power was terrifying beyond belief. This was the fear that made Dave tiptoe around the apartment at every waking moment, the anxiety that gave him a compulsive need to store as much food as he could in his room just in case he needed to lock himself in at a moment’s notice, the caution that told him to avoid making connections with his peers just so they would never get the chance to get anywhere near the batshit insane adult that passed as his guardian.

Dave shifted slightly, causing a fresh wave of pain to ripple through his torso. There would definitely be bruises tomorrow. Over the years Dave had gotten quite good at creating excuses for his various injuries and scars. Now that he’d graduated high school–and was therefore mostly out of the sight of responsible adults–it wasn’t as big of a deal, but Dave went over a quick story in his head a couple of times just in case.

_That bandage on my left forearm? Well there I was doing this totally sicknasty grind down the railing to my apartment building; it was so smooth it was like butter, but like the fake kind that you can’t even believe isn’t butter because of how smooth it is. That shit’s called margarine; so chemically smooth, slick and spreadable as to be a delicious partner to the best, most life changing slice of texas toast you've ever tasted. Anyway, so I tripped up on the fourth flight down and ended up falling down the stairs. Nobody told me dog! Nobody warned me about stairs, bro..._

The setting sun painted the sky a blazing, fiery orange with hints of pink and blue along the horizon. Dave heard the rumble of a car engine start and drive away. Every evening Bro left at sundown, off to one of his nightly gigs doing god did not want to fucking know what.

Now that Bro was gone Dave tried to get up in earnest. Gingerly, he got to his feet and started the descent to the one bedroom apartment he shared with Bro. Making his way back to his bedroom, Dave saw two new chat windows flashing from his computer screen.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

EB: dave! you are not going to believe what vris got me for our first anniversary!  
TG: was it more nic cage memorabilia because god the fuck knows you dont have enough of that shit already  
EB: no i do not, shut up. and yes! she got me an extended director’s cut blue-ray signed copy of wicker man!!  
TG: jesus christ you two really are perfect for each other  
EB: i know. i got her a really cool tarantula, preserved forever in amber!  
TG: damn okay that actually sounds awesome  
TG: how come youve never gotten me something like that  
TG: you know i love dead preserved shit  
EB: anyway. she loved it! we're going out to dinner in a few minutes! i’ll talk to you later!   
TG: later

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

Dave sighed as he switched tabs. He was really happy that John was happy, but there were definitely some feelings of jealousy mingled there too. John was doing great right now, he was a freshman majoring in English at NYU. He had even managed to join a comedy troupe there, Hammer something or other, that was apparently hot shit. Dave was doing… jack shit basically. It was May, almost a year had passed since he graduated high school and Dave still didn’t have a job, he didn’t do much of anything besides avoid Bro and update his webcomic. Bro had gotten on him a couple of times about his plans for the future, but Dave knew he didn’t really care. He was probably just asking ironically, because that’s the kind of thing that “real” parents would do.

Annoyed, he looked back at his computer. He pulled up the other chat window, lavender text blinking mockingly at him through the screen.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

TT: Hello Dave.  
TT: It occurred to me that your sign off at the end of our earlier conversation was rather abrupt.  
TT: Was this perhaps due to Bro whisking you away into yet another “Legendary Duel”?  
TG: you can bet your sweet ass it was  
TG: i mean maybe not your sweet ass but bet any other sweet ass that isnt my sisters sweet ass  
TG: wait that still came out wrong im definitely not implying that ive checked out your ass at any point in time  
TG: why would i when theres a fucking abundance of choice babes walking around here  
TG: all scantily clad and shit  
TG: there is a fucking plethora of sweet asses jutting out all impudently over here  
TG: thats the thing about texas heat rose  
TG: you cant escape it  
TG: but you can  
TG: escape your clothing  
TG:   
TG: point being that i have my sweet ass quota filled daily in the time it takes me to look out the window  
TG: so i definitely dont spend any time thinking about my hot sisters ass  
TG: god damn it  
TG: fuck  
TT: Ever as entertaining as your Freudian fumblings have been, are, and continue to be, I do have an urgent matter to discuss with you and I’m afraid it must take priority.   
TG: shoot  
TT: Our mother is requesting your presence for the summer.  
TT: She seems to be under the impression that you need monetary aid in kickstarting your adult life.  
TT: If my hunch is correct, I believe she is preparing to offer to cover the full cost of your college education.

As annoying as Rose was, her hunches about this stuff were usually right. Dave swore. There was no way he was going to take that money.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum! --  
TT: Dave, are you there?  
TT: Dave?  
TT: Dave, it's been 10 minutes.  
TG: wow fuck no  
TG: thats not happening  
TG: id rather cut off my right arm and replace it with a smuppet arm  
TG: peeps would be like yo whats with that extremely small and unusually colored arm  
TG: and id say  
TG: magic bro  
TG: shits realer than kraft mayo  
TT: Dave, I know how you feel about our mother but it would be irresponsible of me not to suggest that you actually put some thought into this.  
TT: The decision you make could have a profound effect on your future.  
TG: yeah how i feel is that she left me  
TG: for my entire life it was just me and bro  
TG: i never even thought i had a mother until you guys showed up here out of the blue  
TG: bro was pissed as hell  
TG: our next few strifes were brutal  
TG: i got my ass kicked harder than  
TG: actually never mind  
TT: Dave, I've expressed my concerns regarding Bro before but I think they bear repeating.  
TT: The relationship you have with him does not sound healthy.  
TT: In fact, it sounds borderline abusive.  
TG: nah rose  
TG: sall good  
TT: If you insist. But please consider coming over this summer, even if you do not intend to accept Mother’s offer.  
TT: It would be nice to see you.  
TG: okay rose  
TG: ill think about it  
TG: in fact im gonna ponder the shit out of this dilemma over some bangin waffles right now  
TT: Sounds delightful. Do keep me appraised.  
TG: later  
TT: Later, Dave.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

Yawning, Dave sat back from the computer. It was almost ten o'clock and his stomach was rumbling. He pulled on his shoes and checked his hair in the mirror. Rad, as usual.

\---

Waffle House would probably be empty at this hour, like it was most hours to be honest. And with good reason: the food was absolute shit. That's why it was Dave's favorite restaurant. He had a regular booth, and Roxy, the waitress who always worked the night shift, knew his name and regular order (chocolate chip waffle with bacon and sausage, biscuits and gravy, plus extra well done hash browns and a glass of apple juice).

As he walked down the street Dave decided that tonight was the night he would ask Roxy out. The thought came out of nowhere, but it somehow felt right. It was time he did something other than sit at his computer or lie on a roof, and honestly, Roxy was the only person he saw on a regular basis these days. It didn’t hurt that she was a smokin’ hot babe either. Dave smirked and formed a quick plan: he would go in, be his usual suave and charming self, and when Roxy came to take his order and catch up like they normally did, he would somehow find a way to casually and coolly mention that he was available if she wanted to hang out or whatever.

Or maybe that would be too subtle. Okay, so he would get roses and chocolate and do this shit right. Get all romantic in this bitch. Dave stopped at a gas station on the way to get the right supplies for his master plan. He didn’t really have a lot of money to throw away on ironic romantic gestures, but he figured just this once it would be worth it. It was time to make a connection in his life. Yes, he had his online friends like John and Jade, but they weren’t available half as much anymore because of college and general well-adjustedness, and as a result Dave was feeling lonelier than he ever had before.

Apparently, Texaco did not stock freshly cut roses. Shit. Dave looked around the meager selection they did have. He settled on a bar of Cadbury chocolate, which he thought was a little more premium than the Hershey's kind. It sure as shit was more expensive. And since the flowers were out of the picture, he bought a small souvenir teddy bear with a tiny shirt that read “I ♥ Houston TX.”

Waffle House was only a ten minute walk from his apartment, and the Texaco was about halfway in between the two. Dave didn’t bother with a bag, he figured he would just walk straight in with the damn bear held high and woo the girl off her feet. As pushed open the glass door, prepared to do exactly that, he was surprised to see that walking over to greet him were not the swinging, gently curved hips of his favorite waitress, but the stubbornly square hips of a some other employee, who was wearing perhaps the most disgruntled look Dave had ever seen. Dave frowned, his arm holding the teddy bear and chocolate falling limply to the side.

“Hey man,” Dave said. “Where's Roxy?”

“Who's Roxy.”

“Roxy! You know, gorgeous blonde babe, pink eyes, fuckin’ loves wizards? She's here like every day dude, what is this, your first shift?”

Frowning and rolling his eyes, the waiter ran his hands through a nest of thoroughly tangled, dark hair.

Dude, Dave thought, unconsciously smoothing his own hair down at the sight, combs are totally a thing.

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, this is my first shift.”

“Oh.” They stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds. “Alright... well, I'm Dave. Normally, this is when you would seat the customer.”

The waiter frowned even deeper, if that was possible. As he spoke his voice got increasingly high pitched, like he was straining with all his might not to start yelling. It was kind of hilarious.

“Hi Dave. How helpful. In fact, why don’t you help yourself find a seat wherever your little heart desires! Maybe your teddy bear can help you navigate to a table, because you obviously can’t see through through those douchey sunglasses you are wearing at 10 o fucking clock at night for some reason! Here’s a menu. I’ll be back in a few minutes for your order, assuming I don’t hang myself with a kitchen towel first!”

The waiter walked away in a huff. Dave just shrugged and took a seat in his regular booth. Thoughts of Roxy were momentarily forgotten as he watched the waiter's angry march toward the kitchen. His nametag said Karkat. What a weirdo.

Dave smirked. This could be fun.


	2. The World's Worst Waiter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave contemplates an important decision over waffles. Karkat is an actual hot mess.

“FUCK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ON A BREAKFAST PLATTER.”

Dave watched as a service tray loaded with 5 plates toppled from Karkat’s hands in a flurry of pancakes, orange juice and f-bombs.

Everyone in the restaurant turned their heads to look at the commotion. Granted, it was only about five people, but still. Dave struggled not to laugh because what a fucking clutz. 

Someone else came out from the back. Dave had seen this guy around the restaurant a couple of times and thought he was probably the manager. Mainly because the dude walked around with a straighter back and an expression more prim than a fucking nun, and he was the only employee who wore a hideous red button down shirt and slacks. Everyone else Dave had seen wore a bumblebee yellow polo shirt with a Waffle House logo on the back. 

The manager dude started talking to Karkat, shaking his finger with a look on his face that could only be described as smug. Then they both stooped to pick up the plates and food, while Karkat continued to get lectured at. By the time they had gotten everything back onto the tray a few minutes later, Karkat looked absolutely furious. His face was redder than a cherry tomato and his shoulders were lifted so high it looked like they were trying to take off from his body.

The rumbling of his stomach reminded Dave that he still hadn’t ordered anything yet. As the manager exited with the messy tray, Dave raised his arm to get Karkat’s attention. It was at that point Karkat seemed to remember he hadn’t taken Dave’s order yet. He muttered something to himself that was definitely, “shit,” and walked stiffly, eyes down, over to Dave.

Dave leaned back in his booth, crossing his arms above his head in classic coolkid pose number seven. 

“Sup.”

His answer was a glare from Karkat.

“Yeah, uhh, I’d like to make a complaint to your manager. I was hella offended at the colorful language you used back there. This is a family establishment.” Dave put one hand over his chest in mock concern, the tone of his voice lifting stupidly. 

“Thanks, douchebag. I’ll take that bullshit complaint under no advisement. What do you want.”

“Well I don’t want to complain to you, where’s that other other guy? That was like, your manager right?”

“‘No.” Karkat hesitated, then shook his head, annoyed. “Yes. That ‘other guy’ is my brother, Kankri.” 

Dave snickered. This was too good. Looking back with that knowledge the whole situation became eight times funnier.

“Wow, your brother... is a humongous tool,” Dave said.

Dave thought he saw a ghost of a smile at that, but it quickly gave way to an honest to god snarl. 

“Look you prick, I swear to god, if you open your mouth again and say anything other than ‘I’ll take an order of waffles and black coffee,’ so help me jesus I will drag your bony ass behind this restaurant, throw you head first into the dumpster and proceed to close the lid repeatedly on your balls!”

Cringe. “Damn dude, harsh. Do you talk to all of your customers this way?”

“No. Just the ones who walk in covered in bruises, who have stupid hair, and who wear idiotic sunglasses both indoors and at night.” 

Double cringe. “Okay. Sign me up for one after hours dumpster beatdown then.”

Karkat stared at Dave with a look of confusion. Probably no one had ever really asked him to go through with one of his threats before. But if anyone could call a bluff it was Dave motherfucking Strider. Pokerface activated. The staredown (or glaredown, as it were) lasted one full minute, broken only when Karkat turned abruptly and walked away. Nice. Except no wait, Dave was still really hungry.

Karkat was halfway to the swinging doors that led to the back of the restaurant. There were still remnants of his early accident on the ground, and he gave them a wide berth. It looked like mostly liquids and some shards of broken dishware. 

“Hey!” Dave shouted. 

Karkat turned. Man, if looks could kill, this guy would be John Wayne Gacy. He was handing out glares like bootleg liquor at a street parade. Dave could see how it could be intimidating if he wasn’t so short, hella clumsy, obviously full of air, and frankly... kind of adorable?

Wow, strike that from the record.

“Can I have an order of waffles and a black coffee?”

\---

Man, these waffles were shitty. They were always shitty, Dave just refused to patron any other restaurant because irony is why. He would love these shitty waffles, and they would love him back, and he would support them through their shitty childhood, on their shitty journey through college, through their shitty, misguided dreams of becoming an artist, through their eventual boring shitty desk job, loveless shitty marriage and shitty midlife crisis, and finally, through their shitty, unremarkable death. Yes, Dave would be with these shitty waffles from the cradle to the grave, and for that they would love him unconditionally.

There was a small comfort in having somewhere he could see as home that wasn’t actually, well, home. Dave didn’t think about what John or Jade or even Rose might think about the fact that he considered a fucking waffle restaurant his home away from home, an oasis in a sea of violence and neglect.

Oh yeah, Rose. The offer from their mother was something that definitely didn’t stop being a thing, nope. On one hand, it would be a way to actually leave this place for a little bit. Dave could finally stop worrying about where his next meal was coming from or when the next strife with Bro would take place and maybe have a try at becoming a fucking adult. He could study science or photography and meet up with his friends in person and maybe find something resembling meaning in his life. 

On the other hand, Bro. Bro wouldn’t let it happen. Dave just knew that the minute he stepped foot out the door, all hell would break loose. And even if he did manage to make it to New York, the only thing he would be doing is putting Rose in danger, and that shit was unacceptable. Not to mention the fact that the thought of taking money from their mother honest to god made his skin crawl. Pushing away the plate of waffles in disgust, Dave pulled out his phone.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \-- 

TG: jade  
TG: hey jade  
GG: hi dave! :D  
TG: wait, are you swinging from a tree or doing anything remotely impish or adorable right now  
TG: please say no  
GG: haha, no i dont think so dave, why???  
TG: because i have a question that is all kinds of important  
TG: and could have hella impact on the life of future dave  
TG: and i cant have you frollicking or acting frivolous during these tumultous times  
TG: this is practically life or death here  
TG: so  
GG: wow! that sure isnt a lot of pressure or anything! :x  
TG: no pressure at all  
TG: the pressure is so low on this youll have to call a plumber to have a look at the situation  
TG: maybe hell bend over a bit to get a closer look  
TG: classically wearing pants that are just a little too large on his hips  
TG: then boom  
TG: exposed plumber ass  
TG: swimming before your very eyes  
TG: jutting out all impudently  
TG: you try to look away but you are mesmerized  
TG: your eyes stay locked on that bottom  
TG: the plumber rump  
TG: plump  
GG: OMG this is getting silly, dave! what is the question???  
TG: right so roses mom offered to pay for me to go to college  
TG: just pondering on if i should take the deal  
GG: YES!!!!!!!!!!!  
GG: yes! dave, thats amazing! you can come to nyu with me and john!!!  
TG: pshh like id get in there  
GG: david strider, you are a very smart young man.  
GG: you and i both know you would get accepted! they would probably kick someone else OUT if it meant letting you in!!! <3  
TG: okay  
TG: where are you anyway  
GG: im in the library! i have a paper due tomorrow that is super long and difficult! :(  
GG: john is here too. he locked himself in a study cube.  
TG: study cube wtf that sounds like torture  
TG: and you want me to join you  
TG: fuckin chumps  
TG: i gotta go  
TG: thanks jade  
GG: youre welcome dave. please please pleaseeeee take the offer!!  
TG: well see  
GG: :|  
TG: okay okay  
TG: your colon plus vertical bar combo has sealed the deal  
TG: college here i come  
GG: yay!!!!!!!!! <3 <3  
GG: now shoo! before you change your mind!!  
TG: later

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic  [GG]  \--

Talking to Jade always left Dave with a smile. The girl was too cute not to love. She was one of the only people who could break past his highest tiers of irony, she was just that earnestly adorable. Dave looked up. The manager, Karkat’s brother, was walking towards him. What was his name again? Cranky?

“Hi sir, I'm terribly sorry for the disturbance earlier.”

“S’all good man, accidents happen.” 

“Well. Nonetheless we'd like to cover the full cost of your meal this evening. Of course this isn't an assertion of my perception of your financial means or social status but an unbiased managerial gesture as due compensation for your inconvenience. Please let me know if I can do anything else for you, my name is Kankri.”

Kankri, right. Up close he could certainly see the resemblance between the two brothers. The hard set line to their mouths and tangled mess of dark hair were unmistakable; however Kankri was a good bit taller than Karkat, a lot skinnier, and his posture was stick straight as compared to Karkat's slouch. He had a pin affixed to his red shirt that depicted the Waffle House logo, and under that it read, “General Manager”.

“Thanks. Can I have an apple juice?”

“Of course. I'll send Karkat out with it shortly.”

“Karkat, that's your brother isn't it?”

Distaste settled like dust over his features. “Yes. Once again I am deeply sorry for his behavior tonight. It seems like my brother has a lot to learn in the customer service department. I thought job this would be good for him. Karkat needs to gain real world skills and practical knowledge that he can apply to his future.” It seemed Kankri had started mostly mumbling to himself at this point but Dave answered him anyway.

“Right, because slinging waffles and counting pocket change are real super worldly abilities.”

“Yes well. I'll be leaving you to your meal now,” Kankri said dismissively. He turned to walk away. 

“Hey one more thing, where's Roxy?” 

Kankri turned back to Dave with a tired sigh. “Roxanne resigned a few weeks ago.”

Fuck! Dave didn’t remember her ever mentioning anything about leaving. But then again, it’s not like they were that close. He was just some guy that came in a couple times a week. Still, Dave felt stung that she never said goodbye to him. 

“Wait,” Kankri said, his eyes suddenly alert and raking over Dave’s face, seemingly in recognition. “Is your name Dave?”

“Yeah it is. Dave Strider.”

“Roxy... she left something for you! I’ll send Karkat out with it, and your apple juice of course. Have a good evening, Mr. Strider.” 

Kankri honest to god bowed, and stepped away. Dave looked around. The restaurant was now completely empty, and someone (maybe Karkat?) had finally cleaned up rest of the mess from earlier.

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  started pestering tentacleTherapist  [TT]  \--

TG: ive been thinking about coming to visit you this summer  
TG: what do you think  
TT: I think that is an excellent idea.  
TT: I’m so glad you came to this decision completely of your own volition, from initial conceptualization of the plan to eventual commitment with nary a prompt on anyone else's part.  
TG: this doesnt mean im gonna take the other offer though  
TG: from her  
TT: Of course not.  
TT: In any case I’d like to offer my advice and opinion, however unsolicited.  
TT: Take the money, Dave.  
TT: Logically I see no reason this would pose a challenge or trigger anything other than a positive turn of events in your life.  
TT: Unless of course, a certain guardian exists who exerts more influence over you than you are currently giving him credit for.  
TG: yeah i guess bro wouldnt like it if i just  
TG: up and left  
TT: What if you were to leave on your 18th birthday? It’s approaching, is it not?  
TG: if by approaching you mean in 6 months then yes  
TT: Would it not stand to reason that once that day arrives, if you chose to leave your home and say, begin attending college, you would be free to do so as you wish?  
TG: i guess  
TG: i mean ive thought about it but  
TG: i cant really see a timeline where i decide to leave and dont get complete hell from him for it  
TG:  
TG: or maybe not  
TG: what if  
TG: what if hes been waiting for the day i leave just as much as i have  
TG: he obviously hates me i mean theres really no other explanation for the way he treats me  
TT: Interesting. Could you say more about that?  
TG: no rose please can we not do the psychobabble shit  
TG: look im fine sure i get whammied on sometimes but who doesnt  
TT: I don’t. John doesn’t. And Jade certainly doesn’t, for three.  
TG: damn you knew that was rhetorical  
TG: my god i know  
TG: its taken me 17 and a half fucking years to come to terms with the fact that my life isnt normal  
TG: for a long time i actually thought that there would be an end to this shit do you know that  
TG: i actually honestly believed that one day he would look at me and see all the bruises and say  
TG: hey dave wow im truly sorry for beating the living fucking shit out of you every month  
TG: but guess what i wont do it ever again and in the meantime would you like to go get some ice cream  
TG: maybe ill even stock the fridge with actual food for once instead of shitty weapons wouldnt that be nice  
TG: take down all the cameras so you dont feel uncomfortably watched at every waking moment in your own home  
TT: Dave...  
TG: yep good going dave you sure did pull the short stick in the guardian department  
TG: in the form of a puppet ass loving sadistic psycho fuck who gets off to little boys screams or some shit  
TT: Dave.  
TG: the short stick  
TG: sticks so short the damn things fuckin microscopic  
TT: Dave!  
TG: fukc

“Hey dipshit.”

Karkat was standing at his table. Dave quickly shoved his phone away, tears blurring his vision. Thank fuck for shades.

Karkat placed a glass of apple juice on the table, along with a small envelope with pink writing. 

“What’s with all the bruises anyway? Were you in a car accident?”

Dave took a big sip of apple juice before saying anything. Blinking furiously and clearing his throat, he silently begged his voice not to shake.

“Wow, haven’t you ever been told that it’s rude to ask about a girl’s scars?” 

“Fuck you,” Karkat said simply, before walking away again. Perfect.

Dave did not understand why the hell this dude was so ornery but he didn’t have the emotional or physical energy to stick around any longer. He downed the rest of the juice before grabbing the envelope and leaving the booth. He did manage to blow a kiss to Karkat on the way out of the restaurant and was gifted with a spirited middle finger in return. 

Smirking, he turned onto the street and started the walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope what you are looking for is a slow burn. 
> 
> Comments/feedback welcome


	3. Hope is a Dangerous Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years in the past, but not many... 
> 
> Dave meets the other half of his family for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's in the envelope you ask?
> 
> PSYCHE!!! MOTHERFUCKING FLASHBACK CHAPTER!!!

_FOUR YEARS EARLIER..._

It was another hot Houston day. It was also Christopher Columbus day and Dave was off from school, so he was sitting at his desk, working on his kickass webcomic, Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.

While most kids looked forward to days off from school, Dave hated them. A day off just meant 8 more hours he had to be around Bro; it meant missing school lunch, which was usually his only substantial meal of the day. It also meant another day without the bliss of industrial air conditioning; even with the window open and the fan cranked up to the highest setting, Dave was sweating his ass off. He tried to distract himself from the discomfort by focusing on drawing, the constant cries of crows providing a shrill backdrop to the morning. 

It was noon when the doorbell rang. Dave snapped to attention. The doorbell never rang. The only other time he had heard it ring it had been social services, and that wasn't something he was keen to reexperience. He recognized the small sound of the door opening, he was so used to listening out for it when Bro left the apartment. Instantly he was on his feet, ear pressed to his bedroom door.

“You’re not welcome here,” he heard Bro say tonelessly.

A woman spoke. “I’m here to see David. We’ve already agreed to this. Please get him, Rose is waiting in the car.”

Dave's mind flooded instantly with questions. Who was this woman? How did she know Bro? Who was Rose? And why the fuck did they want to see him?

Dave heard Bro’s sharp intake of breath and then heavy footsteps approaching his bedroom. He quickly backed up from the door and jumped into a casual position on his bed, pulling out his phone right as the door opened. Bro’s head popped in.

“Get up lil’ man. There’s someone here for you.”

“Who?”

“Your mom.”

Dave reeled. That was not the answer he expected. What the flying mother fuck?

“What the flying mother fuck?”

Bro brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Dave. Let’s go.”

“I need to get dressed.”

Bro’s jaw was working like it needed overtime. “Be outside in 5 minutes.” He closed the door behind him.

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  started pestering ectoBiologist  [EB] \--

TG: john  
TG: if you dont hear from me again in 2 hours im probably dead  
TG: im being whisked away by two mystery ladies   
TG: one of them is apparently my mom  
TG: the other is someone named rose  
TG: if youre wondering if ive ever heard of seen or spoken to these people before the answer is no  
\-- ectoBiologist  [EB]  is an idle chum! --  
TG: anyway time to go have a heartfelt reunion i guess  
TG: later

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  ceased pestering ectoBiologist  [EB]  \-- 

Dave could feel anxiety bubbling in his gut. He didn’t know anything about his mom, and had only gotten a vague response from Bro the one time he dared to ask about it.

“She’s gone. That’s all you need to know,” he had said, face emotionless as ever. When Dave had tried to press him more Bro responded with, “Why the sudden interest? You think I’m not a good enough parent or something?” This got Dave to drop the topic faster than a priest caught holding a dirty magazine, and he’d never asked again.

As for his mom, Dave had never put the possibility that she might be dead too far out of his mind. Now that it was clear she wasn’t, he couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t ever visited before now. One minute to go. He pulled on a clean shirt and slipped into his favorite and only shoes: a pair of red high top sneakers. He didn’t hear any other sounds from the living room.

He stepped into the living room wearing a well practiced poker face that gave away none of the jitters he felt. The living area was small, sparsely furnished with a plain futon, flat screen tv, Bro’s computer desk and DJ equipment, and then of course the fuckton of puppet asses everywhere. It opened up into a tiny kitchenette where Bro was leaning against the counter. He gave Dave a slight head tilt when he entered. The woman, his mom, was sitting on the futon. She was perched on the very edge of her seat, back stiff and her eyes darting back and forth across the room, as if searching for something. Her eyes snapped to Dave as he caught sight of her, their irises were a shocking bubble gum pink.

“Good afternoon Dave.” She rose, extending one long, slender arm. Her voice was high, with a certain fake sweetness to it, like a telemarketer. “My name is Roxanne. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Dave kept his hands shoved firmly in his jeans pockets, saying nothing.

Roxanne looked at Bro, who gave a very small shrug. Everything about her looked expensive: from her thin, delicate fingers that looked like they'd never seen a day’s work; to her perfectly styled hair; to the multiple strings of expensive looking pearls that hung around her neck; to the way she smelled like she had just finished several laps through the high end perfume aisle at Macy’s.

“Dave, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to introduce you to your sister. She’s downstairs, waiting in the car. We thought we could bring you out to get some lunch.” She stood, making a path toward the doorway.

Dave swayed on his feet. This was too much. So he had a mom and now a sister? Where have these people fucking been? He looked over at Bro, who was still staring at the ground. He didn’t look up, even as Dave wordlessly followed this new, strange woman out of the apartment and closed the door behind him. Neither of them said goodbye.

\---

There was a black Lincoln Town Car idling on the street. Roxanne opened the back door for him, and Dave looked in to see a blonde girl who looked his age regarding him carefully. What was fucking weird was that she looked just like him. It was like looking in a mirror, holy shit. She wore a lavender headband and t-shirt with a logo Dave didn’t recognize over a neatly pressed skirt. She tilted her head slightly as she gave him a searching look, and Dave had the strange feeling of being examined by a doctor.

“Please get in, Dave,” Roxanne said from behind him. Oh right. He'd totally just been standing at the door, gaping like an idiot.

“Hello Dave. My name is Rose,” the girl said as he clambered into the car. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Something in her eyes, which were a deep lilac by the way, made Dave feel a little more at ease. His tongue finally loosened enough to let out a greeting.

“Sup.”

That’s all she was getting. If Dave tried to say anything else there was a serious chance he would start yelling, crying, or maybe both. Rose didn’t seem bothered though. She simply nodded as if everything made perfect sense, and turned her attention to the cell phone in her lap.

Roxanne got into the front passenger seat. “We’re ready to go, Marcus.”

The driver nodded and set the car into motion. They pulled away from the apartment complex smoothly and noiselessly, the Town Car gliding down the road in a way Dave had never experienced riding in Bro’s beat up red 2004 Chevy Silverado.

Dave looked out the window. His mind was a crazy jumble of emotions: shock and disbelief at the entire situation; anger at Bro for keeping this knowledge from him; helplessness to control the things that were happening; sadness and pity for himself that always sat like a grainy filter on his life; he even felt jealous of this other girl Rose, who probably never knew what it was like to force yourself to go to sleep just to not feel hunger cramps for a few hours.

On top of all Dave’s feelings, there was also hope. Hope was terrifying, because it had the power to hurt you most of all. Hope always led to disappointment, and so out of self preservation, Dave rarely let it have space in his mind.

But now there was a small part of him, even as he desperately tried to suppress it, that thought maybe this could be it. Maybe this was the day someone was going to take him away from Bro, and he could finally have a life where he didn’t feel so damn scared all the time, so hurt, and so alone. Woah, bad train of thought. Dave inhaled deeply. Don’t cry, dude. That would be so lame.

He focused on their surroundings to distract himself. They passed by a Waffle House that was apparently walking distance from his apartment. He made a mental note to check it out. That is, if he wasn’t moving out by then, hope whispered. Stupid. He stole a glance at Rose and pang of anxiety jolted through his body. She was staring directly at him.

She wore a small, sly smile on her face, as if she knew some secret Dave didn’t. Then she handed him a slip of paper. Dave took it, looking down at neat, loopy letters that spelled out the words tentacleTherapist. Dave stared at it, confused. Rose smirked and picked up her phone, pantomiming texting.

Oh shit, it’s her chumhandle. Dave pulled out his phone and slowly typed it in, really hoping she didn’t notice how badly his hands were shaking.

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  started pestering tentacleTherapist  [TT]  \--

TG: so  
TG:  
TT: Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem overwhelmed.  
TT: I thought perhaps talking over text would be easier for now.  
TT: I imagine you have a lot of questions.   
TG: yeah  
TG: mostly im just wondering who the fuck you people are   
TT: That’s simple enough. My name is Rose, but of course I’ve said as much.  
TT: I am your biological twin sister, and the woman in the passenger seat is our biological mother, Roxanne.  
TG: okay  
TG: i got that   
TG: but where have you been  
TG: why are you here now   
TG: where are we going  
TT: I believe we are heading to a restaurant at Mother’s discretion. If my past dining experiences with her are any indication, it will be somewhere quite expensive, obscenely gaudy, and boozed to the nines.  
TG: great  
TG: maybe i can get a swig of some of that happy juice  
TG: something to make me totally chill the fuck out because i am sure as shit not down for the events that are currently taking place   
TT: Are you suggesting that you are not excited to meet your biological mother and sibling?  
TT: When presented with the opportunity I found myself quite looking forward to this encounter.  
TT: Then again, I’ve always been aware of your existence. I would guess that this is certainly coming as quite a shock to you.  
TG: no shit  
TT: I must be honest. You are nothing like I anticipated. Your presence is frankly fascinating.  
TG: well yeah  
TG: i get that a lot  
TG: im too cool for school you know  
TG: i know you felt the atmosphere change as soon as I stepped into the car  
TG: it turned downright frigid in this bitch  
TT: Yes, well. I will say that your arrival did give me cause to pull my dressings a little closer around my chest.   
TT: In fact, I find myself fancying a spot of tea to warm my insides.  
TG: wow so youre weird

Dave was smiling, his worries momentarily forgotten. He side-eyed Rose and saw she was smiling too.

TG: so where do you live  
TT: Upstate New York. In a huge mansion overlooking a waterfall.   
TG: okay well come back to that  
TG: why havent i ever seen you before  
TT: Mother rarely goes into details, but the story, as I’ve deduced it from midnight drunken ramblings is the following.  
TT: She and our father, your guardian, used to live together.  
TG: you mean bro  
TT: Fascinating.   
TT: Yes. They were in a committed, and presumably happy relationship for a little over 5 years.   
TT: During the fifth year, Mother got pregnant with us. Whether it was a planned pregnancy or not, I’ve yet to determine. Shortly after we were born, they split up. The reason for the split also remains unclear. Suffice it to say that there were, at the very least, some personal differences.  
TT: Our father moved to Texas to pursue a job opportunity in web development, and Mother stayed behind in New York. They decided to split custody, sex deciding which twin went with which parent.   
TT: I doubt they put in any more consideration than that.  
TG: but why havent i seen you until now  
TT: This is also something that I haven’t been able to come to a conclusion on. It was my previous hypothesis that the custody agreements were binding and exclusionary. I fully believed I would never make your acquaintance.   
TT: I’m happy to say that I was mistaken.  
TG: the pleasures all mine  
TT: The other reason I suggested we interface in this way was so that I could speak openly about one of the other occupants of this vehicle.  
TG: is it the driver  
TG: he does look a little shifty eyed ill give you that   
TG: hope hes not a kid snatcher i know my young innocent sweet bottom is very tempting  
TG: everyone knows im the hottest piece of ass this side of jupiter  
TT: Disregarding that inappropriately sexual outburst, the person I was referring to was Mother.  
TT: I must give you a few warnings before engaging directly with her. She tends to be… a bit cold.   
TT: If you get the impression that she doesn’t care about you and is seeking information from you purely out of self interest, that would be a correct assessment.   
TT: This could also explain why we haven’t visited before now. There would be no purpose in reuniting us until we could properly appreciate the fact that it was she who provided us this opportunity.  
TT: To say nothing of the fact that she was at least partially responsible for our separation to begin with.  
TG: so she gets off on other people needing her kind of  
TT: Quite right. If we met in any earlier developmental stage, we might not have had the mental capacity to appreciate the gargantuan favor that she is doing for us or the capabilities of expressing our gratitude thusly.  
TG: thats horrible next question   
TG: why are you guys so rich  
TG: wait is our mom like a celebrity or something  
TG: ive never seen her before   
TG: i try to keep on top of pop culture   
TG: gotta keep my rhymes fresh you know  
TG: in fact i got a ill beat brewing right now  
TG: i gotta drop it cause itd come out eventually you dont wanna piece of me cuz my rhymes are tighter and nicer than your virginity  
TG: im straight up laughing at the sight i see quaking with intensity stuttering like youre at the state finals of a spelling bee muttering to the judges can you use it in a sentence please   
TG: its time to spell it out for me buying all the vowels like a wheel of fortune spending spree  
TG: how bout i give it out for free well sure if rap is college then ive got like twenty one degrees in the distance you can see my studytastic tendencies look the storms a brewin and its raining fucking PHDs   
TG: but contrary to what youd believe this shit right heres not learned or earned it comes with birth naturally get a science nerd to run a test against my word and see my pedigree striders rippin on fools for centuries now study me  
TG: owning feats of mediocrity im constantly in awe and shocked at these beats spreading word like socrates  
TG: rhymes so sick you gotta lock me in a quarantine i may be a contagion but the world only wants more of me  
TG: boom  
TT: Wow. While I admit I prefer prose, and on the rare occassion, poetry, I must tip my hat to you. Those urban rhymes were indeed asking for immediate medical attention.  
TG: anyway tell me more about our famous mom  
TT: Basically, she is a scientist. Famous, certainly not. But her name does hold certain weight in the right academic circles.  
TT: Her seemingly baseless scientific knowledge combined with her adept programming skills has made her a fortune in the field of Biotechnology.  
TT: Most of her wealth comes from partnership with pharmaceutical companies, but she also does a fair bit of lucrative research on stem cells.  
TG: stem cells thats like cloning right  
TT: Correct.   
TG: does she do anything with like   
TG: dead preserved shit  
TT: If you are referring to the excavation and study of ancient preserved specimens, the answer is no. That would fall more under the categories of Archaeology and Paleontology.  
TG: okay  
TG: its just an interest of mine that we dont ever have to talk about again starting now  
TG: what do you like to do  
TT: I like writing. And knitting. And I play the violin.  
TG: haha yes we totally have to jam together sometime  
TG: i have these sweet turntables that used to be bros so theyre professional grade  
TG: he gave em to me when he got new ones  
TT: I would love to play music with you sometime. I would also like to hear more about our father.  
TG: ah  
TG: could you like  
TG: just say bro  
TG: sorry its just really weird for me to think of him that way and i dont think i want to   
TG: ever  
TT: Of course. Bro it is. I take it he was similarly successful in his career field of choice?  
TG: nah i dont think hes loaded but he does make a lotta cash from weirdo pervs on the internet  
TG: hes got cameras set up all over the apartment recording his freaky puppet snuff videos  
TG: he runs a buncha websites on his own personal server  
TG: sometimes i think theyre recording me too  
TG: probably not   
TG: like i said hes a killer dj  
TG: hes amazing with a sword too he taught me everything i know  
TT: You mean to say that the two of you sword fight together?  
TG: yeah and its awesome enough said  
TT: Dave, none of these things were things I was expecting to be hearing. Some of it sounds a little worrying.   
TG: chill out rose everythings a okay  
TT: …  
TG: jesus how far are we even going  
TT: It looks like we’re pulling to a stop here.  
TG: nice

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  ceased pestering tentacleTherapist  [TT] \--

Roxanne had chosen a restaurant called The Grand Lux Cafe. It looked nice, but not ridiculously high end, and Dave was relieved. He already felt uncomfortable enough with the situation without throwing in a five star restaurant experience when he had never in his life eaten anywhere nicer than Taco Bell.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Roxanne squealed. She led the way through the parking lot and into the restaurant, with Dave and Rose trailing closely behind.

“So David,” Roxanne said as they were seated at a table.

“It’s Dave,” he replied.

“You’ve been so quiet, how are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Oh that's too bad,” she said, with that same fake-sweet tone she had used earlier.

They made awkward small talk about the menu until a waiter came over for their orders. Roxanne ordered a martini and a Cobb salad, Rose ordered an Earl Grey tea and a Cuban panini, and Dave ordered apple juice and chicken and waffles.

“It's so great to see you, David. You've grown into a handsome young man.”

“It’s Dave. But uh, thanks,” Dave muttered. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rose snickering behind her hand.

“How is your schoolwork?”

“Good.”

Things continued like that for a while. Roxanne asked Dave more and more repetitive, inane questions, and Dave continued to give her one or two word responses. The only thing that really changed was her sobriety level. Their food came and went, along with 3 additional martinis.

Dave’s hope was starting to wither. It was obvious that they were never going to talk about anything meaningful, especially not about just how many of his scars were the work of Bro. His dad. Fuck.

It was time to take control of his own fate. Somehow Dave would have to bring it up. The only issue was, and it was kind of dumb, but he really didn’t want to talk about it in front of Rose.

So they talked about nothing. Rose also wasn’t saying much, but Dave didn’t know why. She definitely seemed like the talkative type.

Shortly after their plates were cleared, Rose excused herself to use the bathroom. This was his chance.

“Hey Roxanne, I was wondering,” Dave began and stopped, suddenly terrified and not wanting to continue. He tugged at his long sleeves for a moment, knowing exactly how many scars and bruises were hiding mere inches from plain sight.

Fuck. He blurted it out all at once. “I was wondering if I could come live with you and Rose.”

Roxanne put down her martini glass, looking carefully at him. “Oh David, why would you want that? What you and Dirk have, it’s special. I couldn’t take that away from him.”

He’d rarely ever heard anyone call Bro by that name. It was always Strider, or just Bro. Dave took a deep, shaky breath, his heart hammering in his chest. Do not cry, Dave. Absolutely the fuck not are you going to fucking cry.

“He, hmm. He uh.”

Deep breath. Each word felt like he was forcing a boulder past his throat.

“He uh. Mmm hits.”

Deep breath. This is your chance, Dave.

“Hits me. He hits me.”

Dave braced himself, waiting, wanting to hear a shocked gasp, to see her eyebrows knit together in concern, to feel her pull him into a hug and tell him it was going to be alright from now on. What he didn’t expect to hear, was her chuckling.

“Ah yes, Dirk does get a bit rough at times,” she said absently. “But he loves you dear, don’t forget that.”

She smiled brightly, drank down the last bit of her martini, and waved her hand for the waiter. “We should get you back home, David. It’s getting late.”

Dave nodded. She sounded so far away compared to the ringing in his ears. He tried. He had hoped and he told her, and nothing had changed. He was still going back home, he was still going to have to live with Bro, he was still going to have to strife, he was still going to have to be around Lil Cal, he was still going to have to avoid his friends, he was still going to have to face all the rest of the bullshilt he had to deal with on a daily basis.

Dave’s face was hot. Tears he couldn’t stop rolled silently down his cheeks. Roxanne, who was busy paying the bill, didn’t notice. By the time Rose came back from the bathroom, they were gone.

He followed them to the car numbly, and spent the entire ride in silence. He felt his phone vibrate a couple of times and knew Rose was messaging him. He didn’t look at his phone, or look at her the entire ride. He wasn’t sure he could without having a complete fucking meltdown.

\---

Roxanne and Rose both gave Dave a hug when they got back to the apartment. He returned the embraces stiffly, not meeting either of their eyes, and then all but ran into the apartment building.

He watched the car drive off, fresh tears of frustration falling down his face. What a fucking idiot. This was all his fault for thinking that anything in his life was going to get better.

Dave took his time climbing the six stories to the apartment, trying to regain his composure. His phone buzzed again, but he didn’t check it.

With one hand on the door handle, Dave checked the time. It was four in the afternoon. Bro would either be asleep or just getting up because of his skewed work schedule. He braced himself as he edged the door open as quietly as possible, but he quickly saw that the apartment was empty. The problem was, Bro didn't go out during the day. Which only meant one thing. Unless… please be in the bathroom, please be in the bathroom, please be--

Dave’s heart dropped as he saw the note affixed to his bedroom door. “Roof. Bring Cal.”

Fuck. He doubled back to the living room, grabbing the puppet with a grimace. Here we fucking go.

Back in the stairwell, Dave forced his mind blank. Step, breathe. Step, breathe. When he got to the top, Bro was facing away from him, sitting on the rooftop ledge. Dave dropped the puppet to the ground, and pulled out his sword, a sudden anger flaring through him with a force like he’d never felt before.

And then, for the first time in his life, Dave attacked first.

Of course Bro was ready for him, dodging away like he’d seen it coming his whole life. Then the real attacks began. Blow after blow descended on Dave, the inclusion of Cal making it seem like they were coming from all sides.

Usually Dave went limp as soon as he felt it would be believable. But this time he continued to stand even as every part of his body sang out in pain, swinging his sword weakly and hitting nothing but air, until Bro simply shook his head, stashed his own sword and walked away.

A few hours after their strife, after Dave had done his customary clean up and treatment of his wounds, he entered the kitchen to find Bro standing in the same spot as he had been that morning, drinking a beer.

“Did you tell them anything?”

Dave's heart stopped in his chest, panic rising. He knew exactly what Bro was asking. Did Roxanne tell Bro what he’d said at the restaurant? No, because Bro was asking if he did. So he was probably just being paranoid. Say no.

Terrified that his voice might betray him, Dave fought to keep his face expressionless while slowly shaking his head no.

Bro nodded. “Good--”

Dave let out a breath.

“--Because I'd kill you if you did,” Bro finished quietly. He took a last swig of his beer, grabbed keys of the counter and left the apartment without saying another word.

Dave broke. For the third time that day tears streamed down his face. This time he wasn't sad or angry, he was just utterly defeated. He sank to the floor, shoulders shaking as he sobbed openly. He was never getting out.

He stayed like that for a long time. Until he spotted Lil Cal grinning down at him from the futon and hiccuped pathetically.

Seeing the glassy-eyed puppet snapped him back into reality. He suddenly felt foolish for having a complete meltdown. Knock it off, Dave.

After looking through the cabinets and fridge for any food (none), Dave went back to his bedroom. He paced back and forth for a while, anxiety eating away at him. Dave decided that he had to get out of the apartment; he felt like he was suffocating slowly.

He had a small amount of money stashed away; it was about fifty bucks he had mostly collected from doing weird bets with friends or swiping whatever loose change Bro left around the apartment. He grabbed the money, his keys and phone, and stepped outside.

It was a clear night. Dave tried to focus on walking and breathing, but his mind kept coming around to the pit of anxiety he felt in his stomach. It had been, to say the least, a rough day.

He stopped in front of the Waffle House he had seen in the car earlier and decided to check it out.

A waitress greeted him and brought him to a booth in the back of the restaurant. When she asked for his order, he couldn’t get any words out; they wouldn’t move past the pit. He wanted a coffee. He looked at the waitress and then pointed at it on the menu.

“A coffee! Sure thing, sugar. Be right back!”

Her nametag said Roxy. She also had blonde hair and pink eyes just like Roxanne, which was enough coincidences to put him on edge, but then she smiled at him and it was a real smile, with teeth showing and crooked eyes and a scrunched face and he felt comforted.

She brought him a coffee but also a waffle because, “Poor thing, you look like you need it.”

As Dave took his first bite of the warm buttery waffle, he thought of nothing but her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for the update. This chapter got a lot longer than I thought it would be! Any feedback is always welcome.


	4. Routes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave makes a decision about college and has an encounter with Bro.

The route to and from Waffle House was one Dave knew well, having walked it countless times in the last four years. On nights he was feeling well and truly defeated, he would walk slowly, feet dragging, only able to see what was five feet in front of him. On nights where he was angry he would walk quickly, head down and jaw clenched as he stomped along. On more rare nights, he would walk with a lightness to his steps and a smile. No matter his mood though, the walk was an unwavering, 13 minutes along a sparsely traveled road, adorned sparsely with street lamps, a gas station, and a 24-hour Chinese restaurant.

Dave stopped at his favorite spot along the way; it was an unremarkable overpass stretching across a large freeway. In the middle of the bridge he stepped off the pedestrian path and climbed onto the small, raised ledge that ran along the edge of the overpass. There was a black safety gate that Dave leaned against, letting the relentless rush of traffic below him create a soothing melody to help clear his mind.

Dave felt his phone buzz repeatedly in his hoodie pocket and ignored it, curling his fingers around the solid metal bars of the gate. Dealing with Rose could wait until… forever. His eyes still kinda stung from crying. Damn, he had promised himself long ago that the days of the one man pity party were over, and then tonight happened. It wasn’t like he didn’t think Rose already pretty much knew what was going on, but it was one thing to have her “strongly suspecting” something and another to definitively confirm her beliefs while also having a whiny fucking breakdown over it.

Dave had long ago accepted the fact that his life sucked. It was hard and miserable and now more than ever, without even the tedium of school to distract him, he was finding less and less reasons to get out of bed in the morning.

And yet there was a part of him that whispered in his ear that it really wasn’t that bad. He was just not dealing with his situation in the right way, he wasn’t strong enough to overcome what was happening to him. And besides, think about how many people in the world had it worse.

He was being ungrateful, really.

Dave sat down on the ledge and pressed his forehead against the cool bars, wondering not for the first time what it would feel like to be able to fall, to put the gate behind him, to be swallowed up and taken apart by a river of metal and rubber. Dave ached for the freedom of it, to not feel the constant clench of anxiety in his chest, to not feel like he was a living fucking burden on this world.

Not that Dave would ever jump off a bridge. Which is what made the thoughts all the more desperate and hopeless. Just one more reason Dave felt like a failure.

Sighing, he jumped back down to the pedestrian path and five minutes later, started his ascent to the apartment. With every step he was sharply reminded of exactly how many times and where Bro had hit him earlier.

Bro wasn’t home. He normally didn’t get back from work until dawn and it was only three in the morning. Still, Dave was cautious as he entered the living room, his eyes scanning for any threats, hidden or unhidden. Often Bro would set booby traps around the house for him to find. The traps ranged from physically harmless but mentally scarring, like a faceful of plush puppet asses, to full on deadly, like a handful of throwing stars rigged to shoot across the room as soon as he opened the fucking microwave.

He managed to grab a bag of Doritos from the pantry hassle-free and then booked it to his room. Dave often wondered why Bro had bothered giving him the actual closed off room in the apartment instead of taking it for himself and making Dave sleep on the futon. The only reason he could think of was that it was some sort of twisted power play or more likely, another ironic parental gesture. The inner workings of Bro’s mind were a complete mystery, and so far 17 years had not given Dave any insight on how to interpret Bro’s actions.

Once Dave was inside his room, he pulled out the little envelope from Roxy in his pocket. He immediately smiled when he saw the front, which said, “For Dave”, and featured a hilariously bad drawing of Waffle House, with Dave in his regular booth, complete with tiny dark sunglasses and a syrupy stack of waffles. Inside the envelope was a small slip of paper with the word “tipsyGnostalgic” spelled out in wild, loose handwriting.

Dave stared blankly at the paper for a second before realization hit.

Oh shit, it's her chumhandle!

Dave pulled out his phone excitedly, only to be met with expectantly blinking messages from Rose.

Fuck. This shit.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] is an idle chum! -- 

TT: Dave!  
TT: I apologize.  
TT: I didn’t mean to cause you any emotional distress.   
TT: While I do think it’s important to acknowledge your situation and be cognizant of the fact that you have the power to change it, those realizations should not come at the cost of your mental well being.   
TT: In addition, they should be revelations of your own, and not ones I push you into.   
TT: It’s just that we've been circling around the edge of this conversation for so long that I forgot how sensitive these issues are.   
TT: Frankly, that was inexcusable of me and I promise to never again be so callous.   
TT: I also want to say that I’m sorry.   
TT: Not just for goading you into a confession you clearly weren’t ready to give, but also for the contents of said confession.  
TT: You are in a shitty situation, and it’s one you did absolutely nothing to deserve.  
TT: I completely understand your silence but in the event you are interested in continuing our discussion, do send me a message.   
TT: I’m here for you.   
TG: hey dont worry about it  
TG: honestly i kind of needed to tell you upfront what was going on  
TG: they say the first step is admitting the problem and all that   
TG: guess it was finally time for some closure  
TT: I suppose. Would you like to continue talking about it?  
TG: not tonight i think my tear ducts are all tapped out   
TG: the villagers were very irresponsible when they established the aqueduct system and now theyre looking at a fucking drought over here  
TG: thats why they should have went with wells  
TG: you cant break wells  
TG: wells are forever  
TT: I will say that in terms of emotional release I can certainly see the appeal of a duct based aquatic system. More control over tear flow, for one.   
TG: hey hows this for a crazy change of subject guess what i got roxys chumhandle  
TT: You are referring to the “smokin” young waitress who currently works at your waffle slinging establishment of choice?   
TG: yeah   
TT: Wow. I had no idea you were that far advanced in your plans to sweep her off her feet.  
TT: The last update I heard from you was that she finally made the switch from calling you “sweetie” to your proper name.  
TG: well heres the 411  
TG: she quit a few weeks ago but she left me her info  
TG: obviously she couldnt get the strider off her mind  
TG: and now im gonna ask her out or whatever  
TT: Or whatever. Sounds tantalizing.   
TG: give a guy a break when hes about to ask out the woman of his dreams okay  
TG: were talking about a choice babe whos been on my mind for approximately the majority of 4 fucking years  
TT: Dave, I’d be remiss if I didn't point out the rather unsettling fact that you are lusting after a young woman with pink eyes and blonde hair whose name is Roxy.   
TG: first of all no one is lusting   
TG: who even says shit like that honestly   
TG: even i couldnt score babes with that phrase like that   
TG: hey girl i saw you over there dancing and i gotta say that im lusting after you so bad  
TG: oh wow youre so charming and cute whats your name  
TG: except that scenario has zero chance of ever working ever  
TG: oh rose theres something else  
TG: the new waiter who replaced roxy is amazing hes like this little ball of rage with messy hair  
TG: the dude is so pent up its like he has a giant spork up his ass   
TG: and the plastics jammed so far up that its causing him to be in a state of constant fury and to also be completely incapable of doing basic waiter tasks because his ass is just on fire  
TG: i mean  
TG: not in that way   
TG: i mean i cant comment either way because i wasnt checking out his ass except to make the apparent observation that there is an oversized eating implement lodged tight up there  
TG: his ass is deeply inflamed rose  
TG: all puckering and pink   
TG: downright irritated just like his disposition  
TT: Um.  
TT: All this talk of asses can leave a girl with certain conclusions, Dave.  
TT: As someone who has assured me on myriad occasions that he isn’t gay, it’s unusual how much interest you have in this young man’s rear end.  
TG: goddamit im not gay that metaphor just got away from me   
TG: not that being gays not cool okay its just not who i am  
TT: Well in any case, I’d prefer to pause on the ass talk if we could.   
TT: In fact, I think I’ll leave you to use your charming words on your new romantic conquest.  
TT: Talk to you soon, Dave.  
TG: later rose

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \-- 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering tipsyGnostic [TG] \--

DAVE: woah we have the same chumhandle initials do you think thatll be confusing at all  
ROXY: u sure about that man????  
DAVE: wait what  
DAVE: how did you do that   
ROXY: theres a LOT u dont kno about me dave  
ROXY: namely that im first and foremost incredibly skilled at da MAD HAX  
DAVE: fucking nice   
DAVE: will it stay like this for everyone i talk to  
ROXY: no bb this is is just 4 ussssss ;)  
DAVE: thanks for leaving a note for me   
DAVE: that guy uh kalamari gave it to me   
ROXY: hahahahaha omg u mean kankri??  
DAVE: is he the prissy dude with messy hair  
ROXY: yepppp thats him!   
DAVE: man that guy is a major tool  
DAVE: his brothers hilarious though do you know karkat  
ROXY: no cant say ive had the pleasure  
DAVE: i think hes your replacement  
DAVE: which reminds me   
DAVE: why did you leave waffle house  
ROXY: oh! its bc i got into COLLEGE!  
ROXY: ut austin  
ROXY: i was takin a lil break 4 a coupla years but i think its about time i got myself an adult person degree  
ROXY: so im gonna be the sexiest bigologist the worlds ever laid eyes on  
ROXY: biologist*  
DAVE: thank christ i feel like science is overrun by four old white dudes saying hmm interesting over and over again  
DAVE: i might be going to college soon too  
DAVE: maybe nyu idk  
ROXY: NYU?!?!! thats so cool!!! my brother dirk goes there   
ROXY: he studies da computer science and makes badass robots and hes basically a GEINUS  
ROXY: GENIUS*  
DAVE: no way dirks my bros name too  
ROXY: coincidences oOOooh!   
ROXY: well i dont kno anything about ur bro but if hes like dirk then he must b like the MOST rad person alive  
DAVE: yeah well  
DAVE: maybe something like that  
DAVE: anyway i went by waffle house tonight because i wanted to ask you something  
ROXY: O...  
ROXY: ....  
ROXY: ..  
ROXY: ..  
ROXY: ....  
ROXY: . ..  
DAVE: um  
ROXY: .......  
ROXY: ...  
ROXY: ......  
ROXY: ...  
ROXY: ....   
ROXY: RLY?  
DAVE: yeah its just that over the past four years i guess weve gotten to be sort of friends  
DAVE: i know i always look forward to seeing you at waffle house and hearing you complain about your tightass boss and reading saucy snippets of your wizard fics  
DAVE: ive kind of come to see you as a part of my tribe you know  
DAVE: like i would go out into the jungle with the other men and hunt among the wild beasts and at sundown i would bring home the slain carcasses   
DAVE: you would stay home with the other wives and make clay bowls and sew us clothes out of dried animal skins and shit  
DAVE: and the children of the village would all play pick up sticks but instead of sticks it would be dead animal bones  
DAVE: man that sounds fun as fuck actually  
ROXY: so in this scenario... are u saying were.......... MARRIED?  
DAVE: shit no  
DAVE: wait fuck  
DAVE: not like NO just not like not no you know  
ROXY: loooooollll no  
DAVE: okay lets start over  
DAVE: get a fresh start up in here  
DAVE: a clean slate  
DAVE: fresher and cleaner than a brand new bottle of febreeze  
DAVE: do you wanna hang out  
DAVE: like maybe get some food sometime  
ROXY: ...  
ROXY: aw davey  
DAVE: dont  
DAVE: you know i hate it when you call me that  
ROXY: daveyyyyyyyy boy  
DAVE: fuck you  
ROXY: u mean as a date right?  
DAVE: if a date means a totally rad dude hanging out with a smokin babe and having an awesome time then yes  
ROXY: dawww ;)  
ROXY: then yes!   
DAVE: cool then ill meet you at your place at 8pm tomorrow  
DAVE: if youre free  
ROXY: im FREEEEE!  
DAVE: ill be the southern gentleman waiting to sweep you off your feet with his dashing good looks and impeccable charm  
ROXY: i cant wait mr maaaannnnn ;)  
DAVE: goodnight roxy  
ROXY: nite! <3

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tipsyGnostic [TG] \--

Dave put his phone down, grinning stupidly from ear to ear. Giddiness wafted through him so strongly if he were anyone else he might have even let out a girlish squeal. But he wasn’t anyone else, so obviously he didn’t do that.

Riding in on the wave of happiness, Dave felt an inspiration he hadn’t felt in months. Swiveling over to his turntables, he began a new track. His fingers quickly settled into the familiar rhythm of scratching and mixing beats, and soon his entire body melted into the music. Hours went by, filled only with Dave’s head nodding, foot tapping, and his lips moving silently to the music. He was so focused on what he was doing that he almost didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening.

Dave jumped up, shut off his light, and crawled into bed as quietly as possible. It felt stupid and embarrassing to be sneaking around and cowering in his room but the alternative was Bro becoming aware of Dave’s presence and coming in to try and fuck with him. Bro was always drunk when he came home too, which invariably made it worse. Thankfully, judging from the loud thudding sound of a body hitting the futon, this time it seemed like he'd passed out within minutes of walking through the door.

Now that he was lying in bed, Dave realized how truly tired he was. He fell asleep within minutes.

\---

Dave awoke to his phone buzzing.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

EB: i heard that you’re coming to nyu!  
TG: god damnit jade cant keep her mouth shut  
TG: shes like a dog with a bone  
TG: ugh actually that fits far too closely with her furry obsession dont ever tell her i said that okay  
TG: as for nyu i said i might be going but im not sure  
TG: like i want to but i gotta ask bro first to make sure hes cool with it  
EB: yeah. he’ll probably say yes though, and if he doesn’t you should just go anyway! you’re practically an adult now. you don’t have to listen to your bro anymore.  
TG: i hella kind of do when im currently still living in his house while being a lazy sack of horse shit  
EB: well, dead lines are closing soon for the fall semester. you’d better get off your smelly butt and apply.   
TG: okay ill ask him today i promise  
EB: yay!  
EB: we won’t be able to dorm together because i’ll be an upper classman but we’ll be able to hang out all the time!  
TG: sure dude  
TG: you can hook me up with all the hottest sophomore chicks  
TG: or maybe not because i might be taken by then  
TG: youll have to tell them when they ask about me  
TG: what a shame the striders off the market   
TG: he was traded right into the finals winning team to score all the baskets and win the cup  
EB: dave, that was probably the worst sports metaphor i’ve ever heard.  
EB: you don’t get traded INTO the nba finals. and you win a trophy, not a cup. also, i have no idea what you’re trying to say.  
TG: im saying that i could be in a serious committed relationship by then  
EB: ...is this your way of telling me you have a girlfriend now?  
TG: no not right now but i might have a little thing with roxy in the works  
EB: oh please dave, it’s been four years. like you are ever going to ask her out!  
TG: i asked her out yesterday night  
EB: no way.  
TG: she said yes obviously  
EB: i kind of don’t believe you did but if that’s true that’s awesome!   
TG: you know i did and its not as if anyone could say no to the strider   
TG: man im so inspired i could rap about it  
EB: no, that’s really okay. :P  
TG: hold on though lemme just drop a quick freestyle   
TG: yo  
EB: no... dave...  
TG: ayy  
TG: but you already know the strider charm is undeniable it makes the ladies pliable sit here and look just watch em swoon let out a breathy sigh all full of lust   
TG: their heart strings moving and loosening beneath my fingers and when i blow a kiss they hope it lingers   
TG: if you think you can do better than i pray that you will bring yours like a sinking horse out in a storm your hooves are outsourced no doubt forced by my moves to get served a course of smooth words and good grooves  
TG: my lines they sail straight just like an ace across the court as it relates to romance im a master of the sport   
TG: check out that instant replay the disaster it reports you fell classically short loves not zero in this war its why were here and fighting for a chance to steal an open door an invitation   
TG: slipped underneath hardwood to be in a relationship to feel understood  
TG: desperate for any indication someone cares so tired of emoting getting back blank stares if its any consolation no one quite compares its a pity   
TG: that all girls fall unawares sitting pretty   
TG: prey to the strider stares beware theres no more awards for participation ive earned the lions share youll get leftovers if youre patient  
TG: save your petty glares and attempts at intimidation striders extract smooth like pure vanilla there’s no room for imitation  
TG: mic drop   
EB: oh my god. you are such a nerd.  
EB: dave listen to me. please don’t rap in front of her, okay? like, i am just trying to be the best virtual wing man out there and as much as you talk about your “strider charm” i really don’t think you’re as smooth as you think you are.   
TG: man what do you even know  
EB: we could start with the fact that i actually have a girlfriend! :P  
TG: hate to break it to you dude but i dont think vriska even really counts as a girl  
EB: you shut your jealous mouth.  
TG: okay i wont rap  
TG: but sometimes it just comes out of me   
TG: i cant control the flow man  
EB: sure...  
TG: youre done with school right  
EB: yeah i just finished my summer semester. next week i’m going up to my dad’s for a little summer break.   
EB: youre totally invited, by the way.  
EB: sometimes i think he wants to meet you more than i do!  
TG: not surprised   
TG: like i said the strider charm works on everyone   
EB: i must be immune then. :P  
TG: sorry to disappoint mr egbert but i probably wont be making it  
TG: im gonna be here making all kinds of future plans  
TG: like straight up getting my life together  
TG: im gonna choreograph that shit step by step  
TG: itll be so tight even richard simmons could get down to it  
TG: sweatin to the sound of daves responsible and healthy life choices   
TG: anyway have fun at home  
TG: tell papa egbert to bake me a cake  
TG: i guess id better go ask bro if i can go away to college now  
EB: good luck dave!

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \-- 

Okay sure, he’d told John he would ask, but the idea of asking Bro for anything shot shivers of fear up Dave’s back. Then, like clockwork came the classic annoyance and embarrassment that always accompanied his Bro related freak outs. Yes it felt stupid, but at the same time, it was Bro. The guy was three times Dave’s size and he could still throw Dave around as easily as he had when he was eleven. Anyone in their right mind would be terrified. But what was worse to Dave was just how unreadable he was. Facing an interaction with Bro was like playing Russian roulette, except with five out of six chambers loaded.

Unfortunately it was nearing 1pm and Dave was starting to get too hungry to stay in his room, which meant an encounter with Bro was inevitable. He opened his door and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from an otherwise empty cupboard and filled it with water from the tap, making sure to be as conspicuous as possible. Whenever possible Dave preferred to let the noise announce his presence for him. The best case scenario was that they could just ignore each other. He reached up to open another cabinet, thinking he had seen a packet of ramen lying around earlier.

“Yo.”

Though he had been half expecting it, Dave’s entire body went rigid. His brain immediately recalled his confession to Rose and a sharp spike of fear shot up his chest. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. There's no way he could know, there's no way he could know.

Composing his face into a mask of cool indifference, Dave turned around to face the living room. “Sup.”

Bro was splayed out on the couch in nothing but a pair of boxes, holding up a playstation controller. “Wanna play a game?”

Dave paused. While this could mean a million different things, there was only one response that was really acceptable. He crossed over to the couch and grabbed the controller, plopping himself down next to Bro on the futon, the picture of casualness.

Bro started up a game of FIFA. Dave gripped the controller tightly, but otherwise tried to give off none of the tenseness he felt at them being that close.

A few hours went by as they played side by side, silent but for the occasional groans and cheers as one of their teams scored a particularly intense point. Slowly, Dave felt himself start to relax. It looked like Bro really did just want to play a game. It was definitely weird but not completely abnormal. Then Bro looked over at him.

“What kind of pizza do you want?”

Dave licked his lips, his nerves quickly returning. Why did everything have to feel like a fucking test?

“Uh, pepperoni?”

A moment passed, and then Bro nodded silently, still expressionless, picking up his cell phone.

While Bro ordered the pizza, Dave stared straight ahead, not daring to look. Sure, it was kind of crazy, but he just had this feeling, like if he acknowledged what was happening or looked in any way eager that Bro would suddenly come to his senses and take it all away.

With the order placed, Bro switched the game to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3. This game was by far the glitchiest, and therefore Dave’s favorite. He even got a chuckle from Bro when he managed to get his avatar’s bottom half stuck in some stairs. He couldn’t help the small twinge of pride he felt at that, despite himself.

Just as Dave made a particularly killer nosegrind off the lid of a garbage can causing him to triple his score, the intercom buzzed.

Two minutes later, his mouth was full of warm pizza and surprising contentment was blooming in his belly. They were now playing Call of Duty. Dave was only half paying attention to the game. The other half was thinking about his conversation with John. This sure would be a good opportunity to get the nerve up to ask about the whole college thing. Bro seemed like he was in a good mood, so this was probably a better time than most. Fuck it.

“So I’ll be almost 18 soon,” Dave started, carefully eyeing Bro for any kind of reaction.

Bro took his time chewing and swallowing a huge bite of pizza before responding.

“Yup.” His gaze didn’t leave the television.

And... instant regret. What a fucking bad idea, but shit more words were tumbling out of his mouth now.

“Well I was just thinking it might be time for to like leave the nest and spread my wings or whatever, find my own place, or maybe go to college or something, I dunno.”

Dave scratched at the back of his head uncomfortably. Fuck!

Bro was silent, his face as unreadable as always.

Seconds passed.

Minutes.

Fucking days.

And then, he saw one blonde eyebrow arch up slowly above pointed shades.

“Find your own place,” he repeated.

Dave stayed silent, evaluating. This… yeah, this was not going in a good direction.

“I guess... you reckon you can provide for yourself now, is that it?”

“Well no, not yet, but—”

“So what? You don’t like it here? What is it not _roomy_ enough for you?”

Ouch. Bro was clearly baiting him, but it wasn’t going to work. Fighting down the rising terror in his chest, Dave told himself he just had to stay calm and figure out a way out of this train wreck of a conversation.

Before he could respond, Bro continued. “And you want to go to college.”

Bro smirked, finally turning to look at Dave. “You’d have to suck a helluva lot of dicks to get the kind of money you’d need to go to college.”

Dave's facade broke and he sputtered, eyes wide. Bro continued. “Yeah, you might want to do a better job of clearing your search history next time little man.”

Dave felt his face flame. Fear, shame, and humiliation warmed his cheeks. Then something clicked and his stomach shot to his throat. If Bro had seen that, what else had he seen on Dave’s computer? His conversations with Rose?

Dave felt nauseous with worry. He shrank into the couch, eyes darting around for an escape route.

It was like Bro could read his fucking mind. “Don’t you go anywhere yet. I still have a few questions for ya.” Bro returned his gaze to the television as he continued to speak.

“One question really. I guess… I guess I’m just wondering who’s gonna pay your way through college, because your useless ass sure ain’t paying me shit.”

Dave felt like he was frozen in time, still clutching the remote tightly. His mind was blank. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Panic was rising in his throat, fast.

After thirty seconds Bro threw his remote down on the coffee table, where it crashed right next to the forgotten pizza. Dave flinched, partly coming out of his trance. This wasn’t happening. No. No no no no no.

“Don’t make me ask you again.”

Bro said each word like it was its own sentence. He fucking knew. Dave knew that he knew. He felt the walls closing in on him. His face was so hot and his breaths weren’t coming and he could feel the tears building, fuck… should he say who, or stay silent? Dave didn’t know which answer would be worse.

“WHO?”

Bro’s voice was like a clap of thunder. Dave looked down at his hands, they were shaking. It took him a couple of tries to get anything out.

“R... Rox… Roxanne,” he finally managed.

Bro nodded slowly, his face still blank.

“So what, you told her your little sob story, hmm? I guess she wouldn’t know that you’re a pathetic, lying sack of shit.”

He stood quickly and Dave jumped up, reflexes finally kicking in, and sprinted for his room.

It was obvious he was never going to make it. He got as far as the hallway before Bro flash stepped into his path, and Dave found himself shoved up against the wall, with Bro’s hand on his throat, cutting off his air supply.

“You little fuck.”

Squeezing Dave’s throat with one hand, Bro ripped off his shades with the other. Dave’s eyes were wide as they rolled wildly in every direction, fruitlessly searching for help. His mouth opened and closed like an out of water fish, his slim fingers desperately scrabbling at Bro’s.

Bro was still speaking but Dave couldn’t make out the words. Spots bloomed in his vision. He felt far away. He was aware of his legs kicking uselessly against the wall, but only distantly. Was this it?

He thought about how he was never going to see Rose again, or speak to John, Jade, or Roxy…

He might have been crying. He felt a warm wetness bloom in his pants. His hands fell to his sides, weakly.

Everything felt so dull, and he was slipping...

The last thought Dave had before he died was of that silly waiter Karkat, who had mentioned hanging himself with a dishtowel when they first met.

And then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kudos and comments! i appreciate them so much!!!! feedback welcome.


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